


Nothing Worse

by quill and ink (aquila877)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1950s, Academic rivals, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, I don't actually know that much, Oxford, Prompt Fic, but i tried ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 09:06:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquila877/pseuds/quill%20and%20ink
Summary: “There is nothing worse than seeing you get what you want,” he spoke coldly, hoping to cut into her, to incite a ferocious response from her, something to send his heart racing.~University au~





	Nothing Worse

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, here is a tomione one shot I wrote a little while back. I hope you like it! Feel free to comment or leave a kudos!
> 
> ~I do not own Harry Potter~
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on tumblr!
> 
> https://forgedfromthestars.tumblr.com

~~~

 

 

~~~

 

Tom couldn’t believe this was finally happening. He had waited for what seemed like ages for today.

 

He sped down Oxford’s cobbled streets towards the classrooms where Malfoy was waiting for him. Lestrange had sprinted across the campus after hearing that the term’s final marks had been posted to find him in the library.

 

The brisk spring breeze stung his cheeks as he turned a corner and dashed across the street. His palms felt cold and clammy. He did not want to make any assumptions, but the wild look in Lestrange’s eyes when he came careening into the aisle of books had put him on edge.

 

Tom could not remember the last time he had felt so uneasy, almost nervous. There was a heavy weight in his stomach, as if it was lined with lead, and his lower lip was beginning to sting due to his incessant gnawing.

 

His shoulders were tense, and he could not seem to control his burgeoning anticipation. It was a strange kind of chaotic euphoria that he hadn’t experienced in years, he had forgotten how intoxicating it was. The feeling made him nostalgic in a way, reminding him of his primary school days, back when this whole process had been exhilarating.

 

He let out a shaky breath as the building came into view. Shoving past a group of anxious first years, he climbed up the steps in twos, his hands clenched tightly into fists with his nails sharply digging into his palms. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the absence of the bright sunlight as he passed through the doors into the entryway.

 

He spotted an infamous head of platinum blond waiting for him inside. Malfoy’s eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up his forehead as he lurched towards him.

 

“Tom, wait!” he called trying to intercept his stride.

 

He clenched his jaw, it was not his place to try and placate him in his endeavours. He was adamant. “Move,” he growled and marched right past him.

 

There was a small group of students crowded around the posted tables, but they dispersed upon registering the icy scowl on his features as he approached.

 

Stopping in front of the sheets of paper he took a perfunctory glance at the fundamentals.

 

_UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD…_

 

_…CLASS OF 1959…_

 

He continued to peruse down the list until his eyes spotted his name and the pit of his stomach seemed to drop. He clenched his jaw even harder, until he could hear the sound of his teeth grinding under the pressure and almost taste a coppery tinge of blood.

 

This couldn’t be possible.

 

 

**_1\. HERMIONE J. GRANGER … 97_ **

 

**_2\. THOMAS M. RIDDLE… 96_ **

 

 

He let out a strangled breath and took a step back, and continued staring at the page in some semblance of shock. He wrangled his features behind a mask of indifference, but inside he felt like acid was eating away at his lungs. With every breath it burned his chest and an ache pounded in his temples.

 

He felt a hand clasp his shoulder and tug him slowly away from the board. Malfoy rounded into his eye-line, his features drawn into a hesitant, nervous grimace. He was talking, offering useless consolidations and excuses, but Tom ignored him. 

 

The reality settled on him like a cold shock of water. He had lost his top spot to _her._

 

Of all people, it just had to be _her,_ hadn’t it?

 

She was his strongest rival in their year, seeing as no one else has ever come close to their scores. She had been a thorn in his side since their first year, always in direct competition with him, forcing him to try harder and be better. He had lost his drive to be beyond the best back in his early school years, as he was always leagues and bounds ahead of everyone else.

 

That was until a girl with clever, dark eyes walked into one of his classes three years ago.

 

She forced him to compete and, on one hand, he hated it. She refused to be intimidated or deterred in her pursuit to be the best. In defiance of it all, it was still invigorating. He hadn’t been challenged in any manner for years and forgotten how much he enjoyed the sensation of dominating his adversaries.

 

“We will talk to Slughorn and get him to rectify this mistake, that’s all it is, simply a mistake,” Malfoy kept babbling on.

 

Tom gave him an exasperated glare. They could not go to Slughorn to beg him to change the grade, it would make him look like a sore loser, and the last thing he wanted was to give her that gratification.

 

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a bushy head of brown hair streak in through the doors. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as she swept across the entry hall, her wild hair breezing behind her, towards the posted scores. Her skirt swirled around her knees as she practically skidded to a stop.

 

“Good lord, does she even own a comb?” Malfoy bitterly remarked.

 

Tom ignored him, his attention being drawn entirely towards her. He was more intrigued to take in her reaction than he was to listen to Malfoy’s highbred deliberations.

 

Her hand flew up to her mouth as she scanned the list.

 

Tom strode towards her, his hands folded tightly behind his back, and acid dripping from his tongue. He stopped just a step alongside her and carefully watched her expression. She didn’t even seem to notice him, so caught up as she was with processing his failure.

 

Her hand slid off her face as she read and reread the list. A series of emotions sped across her expression, from disbelief to skepticism to shock.

 

For some strange reason, he felt the burning sensation in his chest dim the slightest bit when he noticed that there was no arrogant tinge to her reaction, only unmistakable surprise.

 

Her shoulders moved up and down as she panted, almost as if she had sprinted all the way here. Her cheeks were flushed a flattering pink as she inhaled deeply to try and catch her breath. Tom sharply bit the inside of his lip to keep from watching the way her eyes seemed to light up in the most bewitching way.

 

“So, Granger,” he muttered in an icy tone, “you finally did it.”

 

She took a deep breath and turned to look up at him with the faintest of smiles on her lips.

 

“So I have,” she pursed her lips, her smile disappearing.

 

Her intense eyes watched his face, waiting to see his expression crumble to reveal his bitter envy, but it didn’t. His mask stayed intact, as it always did. Her scrutinizing gaze didn’t leave his face as she pondered over his features, almost as if trying to make out the thoughts he was hiding.

 

Her eyes had a way of unsettling him in a way that no one has ever before, it was almost like she could see right through him, straight past the facade. Her gaze squeezed the air from his lung as it swept down from his eyes, and he could have sworn lingered at his lips, to his chest and back up again.

 

She tilted her head slightly to the side, speculatively. “How are you holding up, Riddle?”

 

He blinked at her once, twice, and a few more times before his mind could form a distinctive response.

 

“There is nothing worse than seeing you get what you want,” he spoke coldly, hoping to cut into her, to incite a ferocious response from her, something to send his heart racing.

 

But after three years, he should have known better. A slow smirk inched onto her face, and he realized his mistake. He had revealed too much.

 

Her smirk melted into a smile, as he mentally backtracked. “Why, thank you, Tom,” her sarcastic response almost caught him off guard. She had never used his first name before and something about the glint in her eyes told him she had done it on purpose. And yet, there was a part of him, buried deep inside, that wanted to hear her say it again. For some reason his name didn’t sound nearly as plain and common when spoken by her.

 

She bit her lip and he realized that he had been staring at her mouth for a moment too long. She was his rival, his opponent, she was his invigorating competition. He met her dark gaze again, she was intoxicating.

 

Glancing down at her watch, she tutted quietly under her breath. He watched as she looked back at the scores and smiled. “I will see you around, Riddle,” she said, looking back at him.

 

He wrenched his fingers behind his back and quickly bit out, “indeed.”

 

Her gaze fell to his lips as she slipped away and headed back out the door.

 

Tom stood there and watched her go with a tight coil in his gut. He waited for her to glance over her shoulder to meet his gaze before she disappeared around the corner, but she never did. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 

He let out a silent sigh and looked back at the scores and couldn’t help but feel a little impressed, she truly was a worthy rival.

 

~~~


End file.
